Connate Eyebrows Romane & Geschichten

he asks, his light eyebrows rising in surprise. I bark out a laugh. “If I were, I wouldn’t be in here.” I gesture at my own chair, but still completely captivated by his eyes. They suit him, as if the golden yellow of his hair and eyebrows are just a natural extension of the rest of him. I blink instinctively, aware that mine don’t match the inherent genetics that seem to make his meld together naturally. He’s incredibly pale, however, as if he never goes outdoors.

Now we can face him and reject him together. After dabbing on some concealer to ease the redness around my eyes, I pulled my hair back into two French braids, my forearms burning from the effort but I stared in the mirror to check my work. My reflection showed none of the pain I was feeling, and I nodded as if to tell myself that we are going to be okay. ‘Where are you two?’ I asked the mind link

I answered. “Again? But we should be enjoying this day at our village.” His thick brows knotted. His right eyebrow has a scar, that’s why it has a small patch where hairs won’t grow. He got it when we were young, and I remember that time when he realized that the hair won't grow back again, he stayed at their house for many days. “I think it’s cool. You look strong.” “Really?” Since then, he was very proud of his scarred brows.

My eyes going back and forth with brows fucking knitted. What the fuck?

Connie asked batting her brown eyes as she tucks a piece of her curly chocolate brown hair behind her ear. "No, thank you. I'm good." Jade said without making eye contact with her. "Oh come on. Just a teeny tiny drink?" Connie begged and my blood began to boil. Irritaion began to roll off of Jade and I decided to step in. "Connie, was it?" I ask. Connie flirtatiously nodded her head biting her bottom lip. "Well, Connie, Jade said 'no thank you'. Plus he also has a mate and it would be inappropriate."

Conn and I were not far behind him. Curran walked forward and pressed his head to Kara’s. They were the same height and had the same eyes, though Curran was all black. The moment they touched, the matching crescent moon mark that was on Curran’s left flank glowed gently, as if recognizing its counterpart. With a bright flash, the glow burned out.

Broad in the shoulders… the way that made you want to slowly run your fingers all over the hard muscles while you soaked your panties. His salt and pepper beard was trimmed into a stubble that highlighted a chiseled jawline that never failed to make me stare twice no matter how hard I tried. He was in a tight, grey workout shirt. Massive arms crossed. Eyes moving from Connor to me and then latching on to me in an expression that made me burn up like a vampire under the sun. Connor scrambled off me so fast the mattress bounced and he nearly fell. His limp dick pulling shamefully out of me. And I kinda felt sad that he didn't eventually cum.

“Well she has a small face but not too small. It’s like Emma Watson’s face shape but a little constricting on the forehead.” “Lengthwise or crosswise?” “Crosswise.” She remains silent as she slightly strokes the paper effortlessly with her hand. “Did she have any mole or freckles on her face?” I shake my head, “No.” “How about her eyebrows? Were they thick? Bushy? Slim? Arched? Narrow?” “They’re average brows, not bushy and not highly arched.” “Like this?” She shows me and I was amazed at how quick she was able to draw an outline and the eyebrow almost seemed perfect with the image of this nameless woman in my head.

He smiles and everything is okay again. We return to our former position and I resume trimming his eyebrows. When I motion for him to sit, he takes a second longer to lift his head off my laps. I offer him the small hand mirror, he arches a perfect brow while tapping a finger to his mouth as he inspects his face. I don’t understand why boys get fuller brows and thicker eyelashes when ladies are the ones who need them. I’ll kill to have his. Not kill but yeah, I would love to have those lashes.

I felt the weight of his gaze, cold and unreadable. His face was hard, weathered like he’d seen too much. And then I saw it—the scar. It ran jagged from just above his left eyebrow, slashing diagonally down through his eye, and ending at the corner of his lip. The skin around it looked old, healed, but it cut through his expression, twisting his face into something crueler, something that made my stomach tighten with unease.